포케

The mountain has fallen. But has it, really?
Geology knows it was there, and so do all the eyes that saw it. A mountain is eternal from the moment it exists, and a peak like you even more so. I'll always remember how brilliantly you played tonight: the Locke in Game 1 trying to turn the tide on its own, the flawless Syndra laning in Game 2, the Ahri in Game 3 that moved like a ghost, as if you could see the whole map, and the Akali at the very end, trying to save it all. In those final moments, I felt it wasn't something stats or replays should be allowed to cheapen. I wanted to see your face and how you carried yourself with my own eyes. So I pulled the last bit of composure out of feelings that were crumbling like a landslide, and I watched you. And I saw that your smile wasn't forced. I think you felt something close to joy, whatever it was. Then it suddenly hit me: it's because you have always loved what you do so, so much. That's when I found peace. The difference between last year and this year is like seeing A Midsummer Night's Dream and then Hamlet. I laughed in the theater, and I cried in the theater, but a play is really about the person who wrote it. To me, you are Shakespeare: always brilliant on that stage, always giving me your best work. So once the ache of a Shakespearean tragedy fades, all that's left is quiet contentment and deep admiration for you. That last Akali: I used to think only victory could be a miracle. It isn't. You are the miracle. Through the cheers and through the tears, I love you so much. In the years ahead, there's no sword hanging over your head and no chains on your shoulders. Please let me keep following you. I want to witness so much more of you. #faker